


pink lips please kiss

by quidhitch



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/F, dex is me, genderbent au bc i love girls l o l, i guess it has turned into a collection of fem!au drabbles? cool beans, nursey...may be hotter than originally intended, wooo there is now a witch au chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-08-22 04:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8273054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quidhitch/pseuds/quidhitch
Summary: “You’ve got something against pink?” Casual Scrunchie Model arches one dark and astonishingly well-sculpted eyebrow at her. Dex has nothing against pink, particularly in this moment when she is staring at the prettiest, perfect-est peach colored lips she has ever seen in her eighteen years of life.“Um, n-not ethically. No.” Casual Scrunchie Model laughs at that, her shoulders shaking with it, teeth practically blinding even in the lame lighting of the stands.





	1. Chapter 1

They meet for the first time on the Samwell tour. Dex’s mother is chatting enthusiastically with their group leader Stephanie about internships and how to get out of the apparently binding early decision, and Dex is, well. Weighing pros and cons.

The hockey stadium is really nice, like… _really_ nice. And Dex has heard the team and the turnout for games is even better – how could it not be, with Bad Bob’s girl on the team? And even though Dex would never admit this was important to her, she’d heard that the team… well, it was kind of like a family. They had their own house (Haus or whatever) and they threw epic parties and apparently someone was making them pie all the time. Usually hockey stands smelled like sweat and junk food, but Faber straight up smelled like pie. It was amazing. Except for one, tiny thing.

Dex makes a noise of disgust as four of them walk out of the rink, hair up in high ponytails and cardigans tied around their shoulders – _so_ fucking preppy.

“What’s your deal?” one of the other girls on the tour asks. She’s seated a couple of spaces to the right of Dex, and must have reacted to the former sound of disgust. Dex turns to answer, a snippy reply about rich kids poised on the tip of her tongue, but the second she locks eyes with the girl her breath catches in her throat.

She is…really hot.

One of those girls who is so hot it’s kind of hard not to immediately hate her, in fact, that’s what Dex blames when a blush rises to her cheeks at the sight of her mild smile. She’s got skin like Dex’s favorite pair of worn leather gloves, smooth and rich and dark, and some sort of makeup brushed over her cheekbones that makes it look like her face is glowing. Literally glowing. What the fuck.

“Um,” Dex says intelligibly, as Beautiful Girl sweeps her corkscrew girls from the nape of her neck into a little ponytail, “I just… kind of hate how preppy the kids here are. Is all. Like I’m pretty sure their defense has matching clear-plastic backpacks. With pink lining.” _Pink lining_.

The red scrunchie the girl used to tie up her hair brings out a sort of burnt copper color in her curls. It should just be illegal for someone’s hair to look good in a scrunchie. Scrunchies are for awkward weekends with your grandparents, not casual runway looks.

“You’ve got something against pink?” Casual Scrunchie Model arches one dark and astonishingly well-sculpted eyebrow at her.

Dex has nothing against pink, particularly in this moment when she is staring at the prettiest, perfect-est peach colored lips she has ever seen in her eighteen years of life.

“Um, n-not ethically. No.” Casual Scrunchie Model laughs at that, her shoulders shaking with it, her teeth practically blinding even in the lame lighting of the stands.

“That’s cute. I’m Ada, by the way. Everyone just calls me Nursey.”

“Nursey,” Dex repeats, turning over the name in her mouth. It’s cute. Too cute. Her brow knits in suspicion. Girls like this… they don’t really talk to Dex outside of asking for help on their science homework. Or if they have a crush on one of her brothers. The chance Nursey murders for enjoyment or has a secret collection of scabs is rapidly increasing.

“Yeah, like a hockey nickname,” Nursey hums, misunderstanding her hesitation. She stretches out over the bleachers in a way that perfectly accentuates the curve of her back, and Dex stares. It’s. Pretty noticeable. “Didn’t you ever get one?”

“Of course I got one,” Dex snaps quickly, perhaps a little defensive about the all-guy hockey team back home who used her to score but never let her feel like part of their group. “Dex. Last name’s Poindexter.”

Nurseys laughs again, and Dex watches the way her mouth moves around the sound, caught between frustration at being made fun of and frustration for entirely different reasons. “Yo, chill, Poindexter.” She reaches across the space between them for a fistbump, and Dex reluctantly grants her one. Nursey’s smile widens, soft and sleepy, like she’s got all the time in the world.

Dex really, really, _really_ hates her.

They’re broken out of their apparent staring contest when someone who looks suspiciously like a chauffeur calls Nursey’s name from the bottom of the stands.

“Looks like we’re done here,” Nursey sighs, rising from the bleachers in one long, deliberate motion. Dex is vaguely reminded of her mother making tea when she was sick, of the slowly pouring honey she spooned in to make it taste better. That’s the line of Nursey’s body – slowly pouring honey.

“Maybe we’ll play together in a few months,” Nursey says, and Dex must be going crazy from all the pie fumes because she could’ve sworn Nursey winked.

“Um, sure,” Dex says awkwardly. Everything about her feels like it doesn’t quite fit right at this moment.

“Cool,” Nursey smiles, and proceeds to swings a clear plastic backpack with green piping over her shoulder, shooting Dex a self-satisfied grin when she goes four shades redder.

“See you around, Poindexter,” she calls out, already trouncing down the steps in a pair of what look like 200-dollar Doc Martens. 

Dex is torn between laughing and crying. Chyeah, like she’s _ever_ going to end up at Samwell after this disaster of a social interaction.

_Three Months Later:_

If someone told Willa Poindexter that she’d be stumbling her way through the woods in sports bras and tiny shorts a month ago, she’d probably punch them in the face. And yet here she is now, simultaneously freezing and molten hot all at the same time – mostly because Nursey keeps bumping their ( _very naked_ ) sides together as they walk. 

“Jesus, are you just that clumsy or do you _want_ me to slap you?” Dex snaps, turning her head in what direction she assumes Nursey is. Her vision is currently being obscured by a baby blue monogrammed hand towel. 

She gets mouthful of curls, so the guess really wasn’t far off.

“Sorry,” Nursey giggles, and proceeds to topple into her for the thousandth time. Dex grumbles something unintelligible about legs being too long for their own good.

“Hey, Dexy,” Nursey says, voice way too close to Dex’s ear for comfort, “it’s good you’re in a blindfold, because the underwear I’m wearing is _super_ pink.”

Dex trips over Nursey’s feet and face-plants in the disgusting, squishy mud, an action that is immediately followed by the sound of fifteen girls laughing and one curling a princess-soft palm around her bicep to pull her up.

“Sorry,” Nursey whispers in her ear again, pawing at her face to try and get off the clumps of mud. She really just spreads it out more, and Dex’s cheeks heat up to lethal levels as she tries to bat her away.

It was going to be long, _long_ year.


	2. ACE bandages and waffles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jeez, you can’t even let me be nice to you,” Nursey says, but there’s still a small, fond smile on her face as Dex clips her bandage. “You really hate me that much?”
> 
> Dex heaves a sigh and stands up. Her thighs are going to be killing her tomorrow, but she doesn’t really mind. “I appreciate you appreciating me. Is that what you want to hear?”
> 
> “Could be a little more poetic, but we’ll work on it,” Nursey says with a wink, tentatively rising from the bench like a wobbly toddler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so? i wrote more? i'll just add all the little fem!au scraps i write to this work if that's good with everyone :)

Dex…. Well. Dex knows it’s a little weird.

Honestly, she tries her best not to think about it. She finds she’s more focused on and off the ice when she doesn’t, because the second her brain even goes there she’s too busy rolling around her bed internally screaming ‘I’M NOT A SADISTIC LESBIAN’ to actually get any work done.

Okay. So, it’s probably more than a little weird that when Nursey gets slammed into the boards and comes away with a cut on her bee-stung lips, Dex’s skin feels a couple degrees hotter than usual.

At first she thinks she’s just embarrassed at herself for staring, like it’s another facet of her ongoing gay crisis that keeps coming up with fun new ways to ruin her life, but no, when Nursey raises her arms in a stretch during breakfast and Dex sees a bruise on her tricep that launches her into a full body blush, she figures it’s a different kind of problem. Some strange mix of attraction and anger (at Nursey for not being more careful or at the other girl for checking her, she has no idea) that probably means she needs some sort of Christian therapy.

But she can deal with it like she deals with all the other ways Nursey simultaneously frustrates her and draws her in – ignoring it, burying herself in work, and training as hard as she can until she sprains something.

That kind of works, at least until Nursey says “hey, Poindexter, come wrap my ankle” after a particularly rough game. Dex looks up and stiffens. Nursey is stretched out on the bench in booty shorts and a team t-shirt. The slow tilt of her mouth is practically luxurious as she outstretches her ankle expectantly. 

“Nursey, you’re such a princess,” Holster chirps, throwing a dirty sock at her. Nursey dodges it and sticks her tongue out.

“Don’t be mean,” Jacqui says, offering an ‘I’m proud of you, kid’ smile at Nursey that the rest of the team spends most of their time killing themselves for, “you took a lot of big hits for us today. Really great work.” 

“I just wish you didn’t get so banged up in the process,” Bitty says, her pretty blue eyes drooping down as she rumples Nursey’s curls.

Nursey looks up at her, a fond smile on her mouth. “I’m okay, Bits."

Bitty swoops down to kiss her temple before slinging her duffle over her shoulder, “Maybe so, but I’m still making your favorite tonight. Drop by the Haus on your way back to the dorms.” Bitty pauses and points an accusing finger at Dex, “and _you._ Help with the ankle.” 

Dex swallows and directs what she hopes is a very menacing scowl at Nursey. Nursey waggles her eyebrow and stretches her leg in Dex’s direction, so she guesses it didn’t work.

“I don’t know why you can’t do this by yourself,” Dex grumbles, sitting on the floor in front of Nursey and snatching the ACE bandage off the bench. She can see the whole line of her leg from here –the bruises under her thighs, the soft curve of her knee, the tan expanse of her calf—she swears the stupid thing stretches on for miles.

“I’m injured,” Nursey pouts wiggling her toes a bit, “and besides, you do it _so_ much better.” 

“You’re full of shit.”

“That’s what they tell me.” 

Dex’s hand hesitates over Nursey’s leg, her heart rate picking up at the mere thought of how her skin would feel. Soft, probably, even though Nursey never actually takes care of herself yet still manages to come out with a flawless everything. Asshole.

“Jesus, Poindexter,” Nursey asks, quirking an eyebrow, “is my bare ankle really offending your conservative sensibilities that much?”

“Shut up,” Dex snaps, and re-focuses her attention on the ankle. She pretends it’s not Nursey’s, it’s some random kid from the girls Hockey camp she works at over the summer, and it somewhat works. Fancy that. Something actually working in Dex’s life. Alert the media.

“Thanks for doing this,” Nursey says, looking down at her with a soft smile, “you probably want to head to the Haus with everyone else.”

“It’s fine.”

“Seriously, Dex. I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

“We really don’t need to be talking right now.” 

“Jeez, you can’t even let me be nice to you,” Nursey says, but there’s still a small, fond smile on her face as Dex clips her bandage. “You really hate me that much?”

Dex heaves a sigh and stands up. Her thighs are going to be killing her tomorrow, but she doesn’t really mind. “I appreciate you appreciating me. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Could be a little more poetic, but we’ll work on it,” Nursey says with a wink, tentatively rising from the bench like a wobbly toddler

In retrospect, Dex probably should have predicted what happened next. Nursey had a hard time walking like a normal human when she wasn’t injured, it was nigh impossible for her to accomplish that feat now.

She falls forward with half a shriek, long, golden arms coming around Dex’s shoulder’s, and it takes Dex an enormous amount of self-control not to immediately throw her off.

“Oops,” Nursey giggles, pressing her face into Dex’s shoulder, “ _sooooorry_.” 

“Just sit back down,” it’s very hard to hold Nursey up and keep her at a fixed distance at the same time, “do you need crutches?” 

“No, I’ll be fine. I just need a second.”

Dex swallows. “Uh… sure.”

Nursey pulls back just far enough that their noses are barely touching, a lazy smile curling her mouth, “I like your freckles.”

Dex opens her mouth then closes it. “Thank you.”

“I’m surprised that wasn’t a ‘shut up’.”

Dex shrugs, which is kind of hard to do with a six-foot hockey player hanging off of you, “Trying to grow. As a person.”

“Sure,” Nursey nods, letting out a quiet laugh that’s more air than actual sound. 

They stand like that for a minute or so, arms around each other. They could be waltzing if they weren’t messy and disgusting from their game, still wearing various articles of their gear. Dex likes to pretend. She likes to pretend a lot. And before she can even comprehend what she’s doing, she’s starting to lean in and their foreheads are touching, and she can feel a puff of air from Nursey’s lips and – 

Nursey’s arm stiffens around her shoulders and Dex freezes. Nursey is looking at her with wide, curious green eyes, more alert than Dex has ever seen them.

“Were you just about to—“

“No.” 

“You were! You totally—“

“Shut up.” 

“Damn it, Poindexter, we were making ground for a second there.”

Dex unceremoniously deposits Nursey on the bench, her heart beating way too fast and hands possibly a little shaky. Oh god. Nursey is going to think she’s a lesbian. Nursey’s going to tell everyone on the team about it, and they’ll probably be nice, but everything will be weird and—

Nursey takes hold of her wrist and tugs, jerking her out of her thoughts for a second, “where are you going?” Her eyes are still wide, green, curious.

“I’m gonna grab you crutches,” Dex says, reaching inside her locker for a shirt to pull on.

“Oh,” Nursey says. “I kind of thought you were going to kiss me.”

“I – do you want me to kiss you?” 

Nursey licks her lips, leaning back on her palms and giving Dex a once-over that feels just a little too slow. “I mean. Yeah. That would be chill.”

“Why did you interrupt me, then?” Dex asks, bracing a hand on her hip and fixing Nursey with an irritated look. 

“Well!” Nursey looks a little frazzled, and despite the circumstances Dex relishes those small moments when her hippie flow is visibly shaken. “I didn’t know you were into girls! It threw me for a second.”

“Whatever, Nursey,” Dex waves her hand, tugging on a shirt and gathering up her things, “moment’s over. Come on. Let’s head over to the house.” 

“Wh—moment’s over? Just like that?” Nursey asks. Miraculously, she is walking again without problem. Dex is caught between pushing her over and trying to kiss her again. Seems like a frequent dilemma. “Aw, baby, don’t be like that. I can set the mood again.” Nursey waggles her eyebrows.

“You’re gross,” Dex grins, scooping her hair in a ponytail and slinging her duffle over her shoulder.

“Yet you still tried to kiss me.”

“Did I?” Dex asks, feigning confusion as she spins on her heel, “suddenly can’t remember.”

“Ha. I see how it is, Poindexter,” Nursey says, trailing behind her with a slight limp. Dex can hear the smile in her voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you back when you least expect it.”

“If it helps you sleep at night, Nurse.” 

* * *

 When Dex least expects it turns out to be at breakfast the next morning. They’re the ones making Bitty waffles, for a change, but Nursey puts too much mix in the press and now it’s spilling out the sides and making a mess.

Dex has waffle mix all over her fingers and Nursey is laughing so hard there’s probably not a single person in the Haus still asleep.

“You are making a bigger mess,” Dex reprimands, but she’s smiling, globs of paper towels bunched up in her hands. (She drops them, when Nursey leans forward to kiss her, making a sticky handprint of waffle mix on her cheek).

“This is you setting the mood?” Dex laughs against her mouth, curling an arm around her waist even as she hears people coming down the stairs. She likes the way Nursey’s breath hitches when her arms press at a bruise from yesterday.

“What can I say,” Nursey pushes their foreheads together, “I’m a romantic.”


	3. witch au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for this 13 days of halloween ficathon: http://omgericzimmermann.tumblr.com/post/151194565829/welcome-to-the-halloween-ficart-a-thon-there
> 
> the prompt was witch so have some witchy girlfriends.

Dex loves fall.

She loves the way the Haus always smells like the burnt sugar residue of magic, she loves the chunky scarves and sweaters Holster knits them, and she loves the way Bitty charms little tea candles to float around the living room (definitely a fire hazard, but with thirteen witches living in one house, there’s always someone to flick a jet of water from their fingertips when Nursey inevitably knocks one over).

Nursey… well, Nursey has never kept secret that she is a summer kind of person. So when she slams the door of the Haus Friday afternoon, tracks dirt onto Bitty’s newly cleaned kitchen floors, and drapes herself dramatically across the table with a particularly pitiful wail, Dex doesn’t even look up from her Grimoire.

“I hope you’re planning to clean that up,” Dex says, tapping her fuzzy-sock clad foot on the linoleum judgmentally.

Nursey lets out an incoherent mumble, but lifts her head, whispers an incantation, and points her fingers at the slowly disappearing mud.

“Do you even know what a paper towel is?”

“Sure I do,” Nursey smiles, tugging off her beanie. Dex likes the way her curls get smushed under it. “They’re the ones with the guy who dresses like you on the package, right?”

“I do not wear that much flannel,” Dex grumbles, thankful she decided on a green sweater today instead of her signature red and black button down.

“Chill. It’s cute.”

Dex blushes. “Whatever. I’m gonna make cider, do you want some?”

“Mmm, yes. The only tolerable part of these horrible dead season.”

“Any particular reason for the dramatics today?” Dex asks, pulling two ceramic mugs from the top shelf. They still smell like cinnamon from her last batch.

“My nose is very cold,” Nursey sighs, shucking off her boots and her jacket and sliding into one of the stools. “And I’ve got a shit ton of reading for Gronke’s class.”

Dex winces, a rare spark of sympathy for Nursey panging in her chest. “Gronke’s terrifying. She swears she’s not an oracle but the way she just knows when you haven’t done the homework gives me the heebie jeebies.”

“Same,” Nursey shudders. Dex busies herself with the cider for a minute, and the only sound’s ceramic clinking and the sink running. It’s a rare moment of peace between them. The first few weeks back every time Dex said something vaguely conservative Nursey would try to magick off one of her eyebrows.

“Are you going home for fall break soon?” Dex asks to break the silence, though she feels a sharp stab of regret seconds later. The little she knows about Nursey’s relationship with her family isn’t great.

“Nah.” There’s an element of carefully contrived ‘chill’ in her voice, and it makes Dex sad. “My nose would be even colder in New York than here. You say hi to Mama Poindexter for me.”

“Your crush on my mom is weird,” Dex says over her shoulder. Nursey giggles and flips her off. It’s not very threatening with a bright smile lifting her cheeks and her nose red from the cold. Dex blushes again and turns back around.

She’s just stirring their cider, not even really thinking when she says, “you could come up to Maine, say hi to her yourself.”

There’s a beat of silence and Dex can feel Nursey’s magic crackle the air like it always does when she’s nervous. Dex swallows and internally berates herself, scrambling to come up with some blasé way to pass off the offer.

But before she can rattle off a couple of Maine’s weather stats, Nursey says in a soft, small voice “sure. That sounds nice.”

A combination of excitement and nerves takes foot in Dex’s stomach as she turns around and sets Nursey’s cider down in front of her. Both of their smiles are small and curious when Dex tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and says, “cool. I’ll give her the heads up tomorrow.”

* * *

If Dex loves fall at the Haus, she’s completely enamored with fall back home. Her little sisters running between her legs, crowns of leaves floating above their heads, her grandma’s pumpkin pie, the way her parents’ hugs seem to be a little tighter when they pick her and Nursey up from the train station.

Here, in the Poindexter home, surrounded by magic and life and crackling fires all day long, Nursey looks like she could be a fall person, too.

They’re currently sprawled out on Dex’s bed – it takes Nursey about 2 full days to get over the sheer number of Wonder Woman posters Dex has on her walls, another one for the Star Wars bedsheets – and Nursey has taken on the lengthy task of putting makeup on Dex’s little sister for the big family dinner that night. Their whole coven is invited, and Dex’s family loves getting dressed up.

Nursey is devastatingly pretty in a red velvet dress, her usually unruly curly hair pinned in place with a silky golden bow. Dex keeps staring and Nursey keeps catching her. It’s a whole thing.

“I want my eyes like yours the first day you came,” Dex’s thirteen year-old menace of a sister commands, and Nursey shoots Dex an amused look from the corner of her eye. Dex mouths ‘sorry’, though she’s secretly grateful for Nursey’s help. She’s never been able to help Lizzie with this kind of thing.

“You got it, babe,” Nursey smiles, instructing Lizzie to hold still as she puts the finishing touches of green dust over her eyelids. “Just remember to come see me after dinner so we can wipe it all off.”

Lizzie eyes her reflection in the mirror behind Nursey’s head and lets out a positively dreamy sigh. “I wish I could always look like this.”

Dex is about to say something trite about natural beauty, almost a reflex at this point, but Nursey beats her to the punch.

“Well I sure don’t,” she bops Lizzie’s nose and Lizzie laughs, despite the moody preteen façade she’s recently developed, “I can barely see your freckles under all this. Freckles are _very_ in.”

Lizzie looks skeptical. “Are you sure?”

Nursey drops a kiss on the crown of Lizzie’s head, a gesture not even their mother can get away with these days. “I’m positive. You wanna do the lipstick yourself?”

Lizzie’s eyes brighten and she swipes the pink crayon from the top of Dex’s dresser with a surprising amount of vigor. Nursey laughs as she darts out of the room and down the hallway, her excited ‘thanks Ada’ trailing behind her.

“You know you’re never getting that back,” Dex smiles, sitting up and dragging a hand through her hair.

Nursey smiles back and pushes her legs up against Dex’s. Any physical boundaries they had before this trip have completely and totally vanished, and Dex can’t even pretend to be annoyed by it. “It’s chill. I have others.”

Dex squeezes the top of Nursey’s knee and says, “I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

Nursey waggles her eyebrows as Dex swings her legs over the side of the bed, sitting up on her knees clumsily, “oooooh a present.”

“Don’t get too excited. It’s very practical.” Dex rifles through her sock drawer for a minute before digging a thin gold necklace out of one of her fuzzy Santa socks. Its magic hums pleasantly the second her fingers circle the chain.

The curiosity in Nursey’s brow only intensifies as Dex walks back toward the edge of the bed, necklace wrapped around her palm, plopping down next to Nursey again. Nursey snatches it from her without preamble, turning it over in her hand slowly.

“What does it do?” Nursey asks, rubbing the simple charm between her fingers.

“Keeps your nose warm. It used to be mine when I was a kid. My face was always super cold,” Dex explains, a light blush on her cheeks.

Nursey holds up the charm at eye level, a sweet smile on her face as the light catches the P emblazoned on the front. She looks at Dex with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Dex laughs nervously, dragging a hand through her hair, “sorry, my mom puts P’s on everything. You can probably cover that up with N or something.”

“No way, Poindexter,” Nursey laughs, holding the chain out to Dex expectantly, “I want everyone to know you’re my gal. Here, put it on me.”

Dex resolutely ignores the implication of ‘my gal’ and plucks the necklace from Nursey’s fingers and waits as she scoots around and lifts her hair from her neck.

“Don’t lose it,” Dex instructs, the corner of her mouth tipping up when Nursey’s back goes ramrod straight at the slightest brush of Dex’s fingers.

“I won’t! So little faith,” Nursey tuts, swiveling back around. Dex likes the way the P falls right on her breastbone, resting in the dip of her collar like it was always meant to be there.

“You look really nice,” Dex says quietly, proud she didn’t talk herself out of it.

“Yeah?” Nursey asks, leaning forward and pressing their foreheads together, “how nice?”

It’s really only half a kiss that follows because Nursey can’t stop laughing, and Nursey’s mouth mildly electrocutes her because she always gets a little crackly when she’s nervous, and Dex’s mom is already calling them downstairs for dinner, but Dex still pulls Nursey back in by the chain around her neck and thinks she wouldn’t have it any other way.


	4. my girl's tall with long hard eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nursey cuts dex's hair and it's pretty gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's more girls *throws confetti*
> 
> ALSO I REALLY NEED SOMEONE TO BETA MY SWAWESOME SANTA PLEASE MESSAGE ME IF YOU HAVE TIME I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE!!! (i'm at quidhitch on tumblr)

Nursey doesn’t know what she’s expecting Willa Poindexter to say when she barges into Chowder’s room at four PM on a Tuesday, but somehow it’s not “will you cut my hair?”

Dex looks formidable, standing in the doorway with one hand on her hip and the other clutched around a pair of scissors that look suspiciously like they came from Lardo’s art room. It’s the kind of stature that scares Nursey but also turns her on a little.

“Sure,” Nursey says, like this is normal, like she and Dex have the kind of relationship where they cut each other’s hair at four PM on Tuesdays.

The walk to the bathroom is strangely silent. Dex should be chirping her about the fact her sweatpants have ‘NASTY’ written in hot pink letters on the back, or the gym selfie she posted this morning, or the fact that she was eating Kale chips when Dex barged in, but she’s not doing any of that. She’s chewing on her lip and walking at an alarmingly fast rate, and, maybe, Nursey thinks, there is more going on than a haircut.

She doesn’t ask, though. It doesn’t quite feel like the right time.

“Uhh… let’s do it in the tub,” Nursey says, mostly because she’s too lazy to go downstairs and get paper towels to lay down, or whatever the fuck you’re supposed to lay down when you’re cutting your D-Man’s hair. 

If Dex thinks it’s weird she doesn’t say anything, just obediently steps into the tub and tucks her legs up against her chest. Nursey gets in behind her and is suddenly presented with the nape of Dex’s neck, and she… hesitates.

“Do I need to ask someone else?” Dex snaps.

“No,” Nursey snaps back, and gently pulls the locks of Dex’s long orange hair still over her shoulders. “How short do you want it?”

“I don’t know,” Dex says, and she sounds more thoughtful and soft than Nursey has ever heard her.

“I think a long bob would be pretty,” Nursey says.

The back of Dex’s neck flushes, and Nursey’s glad she doesn’t have to try and hide her smile, and that she has an excuse to run her fingers over the freckles there. Dex doesn’t pull away or flinch like she might have a week or so ago.

“Okay,” Dex says, nodding, “long bob.”

“Okay.”

Nursey gets to work. She doesn’t really know what she’s doing – she feels like maybe she should watch a YouTube tutorial or something? – but she figures Dex is a simple kind of girl. Just try to cut into a straight line and don’t make her bald, it’ll be fine. Probably. 

She doesn’t know why Dex tapped her for this weird job, but she feels special for it. She’s not used to wanting girls like Dex to like her, to be impressed by her, and it’s kind of been throwing her confidence game as of late. 

“I love your hair,” Nursey sighs, running her fingers through the soft, thin red strands, “people write epics about girls with your hair.”

“I hate my hair,” Dex scoffs, her shoulders relaxing just a bit. This feels like more natural territory for them. “It makes all Samwell gear look terrible on me.”

“Nothing looks terrible on you,” Nursey says before she can stop herself. Her impulse control is not the best, especially, for some reason, around Dex. She has a theory that Dex is to her what jumping off cliffs is to adrenaline junkies. She knows it’s a bad idea, but just the prospect makes her heart beat so quick and her cheeks flush so fast that she can’t help but consider.

“My head feels so light without it,” Dex says. Her voice sounds strange and hollow.

“You did have a lot of hair,” Nursey agrees. 

Nursey works in silence for a bit after that, the only sound the blade of the scissors cutting through Dex’s locks in quick succession. It’s not a fancy, extravagant haircut, but it is important to Nursey that she gets the ends straight. And it is also important that this is the only time in the foreseeable future where Dex will allow Nursey to run her fingers through her hair. It’s an opportunity she needs to take advantage of. 

“It just feels weird,” Dex says, like she doesn’t realize she’s saying it, “I go through all the pictures from home and I look… I look the same. I just didn’t want to look the same anymore.”

Nursey nods before she realizes Dex can’t see her, and says, quietly, “yeah.” Her poet’s mind is running away with her, imagining a thousand scenarios about what the fiery red hair scattered on the Haus bathtub floor actually represents, and what it means that Nursey was the one Dex asked to cut it. 

“Plus it’s a bitch to take care of,” Dex adds, slowly unfurling, her legs stretching out in front of her. “I think I only kept it long because my mom loved it. She’ll probably be pissed when I get back.”

“Great,” Nursey laughs, running her fingers through Dex’s now significantly shorter strands, “I haven’t even met your mom and I’m already in her bad books.”

“Oh, shut up. Everyone likes you, you’ll be fine.” Dex has an uncanny ability to turn things that sound like they should be compliments into insults. 

“I think I’m done,” Nursey says, but she and Dex just sit in the bathtub for a few moments. Nursey’s hand is still at Dex’s nape and she doesn’t plan on moving it until forced. 

“How do I look?” Dex asks, turning her head to glance at Nursey over her shoulder. There’s a wry, disbelieving quality to her voice, like she has no idea how much Nursey wants to kiss each and every one of her freckles. 

“Hot,” Nursey says, a slow grin forming at her cheeks as Dex’s face starts to heat up. She looks quickly back over her shoulder, laughing quietly as she does.

“Why’d you ask me to do it?” Nursey says, her fingers trailing to Dex’s shoulder, pushing against each of the little spots there. Dex takes a moment to answer, like she actually wants to think about the response.

“I want us to be friends,” she says carefully.

“So you asked me to cut your hair?” Nursey wrinkles her nose.

There’s a beat of silence, and they both laugh. Nursey can smell pie wafting in from downstairs and thinks maybe it’s a good time to rejoin society. She wants to face the uncomfortable scratching feeling in her chest when the rest of the team fawns over Dex’s new haircut sooner than later. It’s not jealousy. It’s not.

Nursey almost tips over as she gets up, somehow slipping even though they put down that bathmat with the spikes on it just to avoid that particular situation. Dex is laughing somewhere next to her, and that kind of makes it worth it. 

“Thanks,” Dex says when they get to the top of the stairs. She looks shy about it, suddenly nervous as if she and Nursey didn’t just have a super deep conversation in the bathtub. 

“Don’t mention it, Poindexter,” Nursey smiles, throwing an arm around Dex’s shoulders and tugging her down the stairs. Dex laughs, her new hair curling prettily around her face, and they trip but they don’t go tumbling to the bottom, and Nursey thinks that maybe it’s the little things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> catch me at quidhitch on tumblr. ALSO IF THIS FIC CONVINCED YOU TO BETA FOR ME THAT WOULD BE HELLA COOL HMU ON TUMBLR<3


End file.
